Nothing Wears You Out Like Caring
by loverofeevee
Summary: This will be a one shot. I know it doesn't look it. I know it may well have potential to be a bigger story but I completely ran out of interest and ideas. twin who lived, Potter parents alive and neglectful.


Nothing Wears You Out Like Caring

Harry Potter. Harrison James Potter, child of Lily Potter nee Evans and James Potter. Green eyes, black unruly hair, lightning bolt scar across his forehead.

Everyone knew about Harry Potter. How he lived, how he grew up, who he was and what he'd done for the magical world.

Except.

Except that wasn't true.

Everyone knew about Daniel Charlus Potter. Everyone knew about his red hair, brown eyes, odd scar across his forehead in the vaguest shape of a lightning bolt.

If you squinted.

They knew about his parents, the lucky to be alive Lily Potter nee Evans, James Potter. They knew who he was, what he did for the magical world, how he lived and how he grew up.

Of course they would, Daniel was the Boy Who Lived. Daniel was the one who strutted around Diagon Alley, giving smug smirks and shaking hands while his parents catered to his every whim.

No one knew Daniel had a younger brother, a younger twin.

No one knew he and Harry were attacked at the same time, that Voldemort sought to destroy them both in the hopes it would cancel out the prophecy foretold his demise.

No one knew that both boys were attacked, that both boys wound up with a scar.

Not even Lily and James knew, they assumed.

Assumed that Daniel's new scar was special because it was bleeding when they woke up and found him, whereas Harry's was faint, almost invisible. Assumed the vague shape of a lightning bolt meant Daniel's scar was something important.

Of course, they're assumptions were mirrored by their close friend and mentor, Albus Dumbledore, so they assumed they were right. Albus Dumbledore was never wrong after all.

However, regardless of all that, no one really knew what happened that night, as everyone who might have seen it had been knocked unconscious. Oh they were injured, but it seemed Voldemort wanted to gloat about killing the children before killing the adults.

Only the young twins knew what really happened, and of course it was silly to think that one year olds had any way of telling their story. Certainly when Daniel was asked all he could remember was a green light.

So assumptions were made, and suggestions were listened to, and it all led to one twin being sent away, while the other was spoiled rotten and treated as a celebrity by his adoring fans.

As for Harry, he wound up going to Lily's sister Petunia. And her husband Vernon. They, alongside their son Dudley, made it quite clear over the next nine or so years that they held no love for magic, or the Potters, or Harry.

At first Harry tried to make a good impression, tried to be a good boy and not get in the way, to do as he was told and make his relatives happy. Tried to make sense of why he'd been sent away while his brother got to stay with their parents. But eventually he realised no matter what he did it would never be enough.

Vernon would beat him, Petunia would scream at him, and Dudley would bully him. He would be crammed into his tiny cupboard, left to rot, it didn't matter what he did.

So eventually, he just stopped caring.

What did it matter how well or how badly he did in school? What did it matter if he was polite or a brat? What did it matter if the ones he once called parents ever came back for him?

What was the point in caring what others thought?

But just because he didn't care, didn't mean Harry forgot. Oh no. Harry remembered everything, from the moment Voldemort barged into his and Daniel's shared nursery, to the moment he was dumped on the Dursley's doorstep with nothing but a note and a blanket.

But, regardless of whether he remembered or not, ten, almost eleven year old Harry, at this point, didn't even care if he lived or died. If he was knocked down the next day, then that was that.

He had no friends, no belongings, no life of his own.

He was asked once, when a spokesperson from some company came to the school, what he wanted to be when he was older.

He'd already heard most of the children in his class state the usual answers. A fireman, a policeman, a nurse. A big rich businessman.

So when it was his turn, his reply startled the man.

To be away from the Dursleys, to be able to simply live out the rest of his days in peace, however long that was. He had no dreams, no hopes. Why would he, they'd been crushed by selfish parents and abusive relatives.

He just wanted to be alone.

The man had stammered out something about being a nice stable dream, before turning to someone else.

Harry didn't care.

And now, as he looked at his Hogwarts letter, the one every eleven year old witch or wizard is so desperate to see, he found he couldn't even bring himself to care about that.

He already knew he was a wizard, knew his occasional burst of freakiness was accidental magic, but really, what could magic people do that non magic couldn't?

He'd go to this school, learn some tricks, graduate and then what? Find a job, buy a home, do pretty much what he was going to do anyway.

Did it even matter?

OOO

As it turned out, his choice was already made.

That very afternoon, after Vernon had left for work and Dudley to terrorise the neighbourhood, there came a knock upon the Dursley's door. Petunia opened it, and wished she hadn't.

'You!'

Lily rolled her eyes as she and her husband pushed past the woman.

'We're here for the kid' James stated.

Petunia just glared at the man. The nerve of them! Dumping the brat on her doorstop and leaving him here all those years just to take him back now. Oh Harry may not have celebrated any birthdays, but she knew what age he was, and what being eleven meant for those with freakish powers.

'You have a lot of nerve! Dumping that boy here without even a token of assistance for forcing us to take in another mouth to feed. And don't think you can push me off with some excuse as to why you couldn't help! I know you have the money to do so. And now you want him back'.

She huffed out a laugh.

'Not that I care, parade him around all you want. Just understand this. If you take him, you won't be bringing him back. Vernon and I debated for hours about whether or not we should put him in an orphanage, we won't hesitate to do so if he comes back here!'

James would not stand being talked to like that by some muggle, and drew his wand. Lily grabbed his arm, but glared at her sister all the same.

'We gave you a letter stating why we brought him to you'.

Petunia laughed.

'Letter! You mean the one that all but stated that you favoured one child over the other and wanted rid of the weak one? If you wanted him gone so badly I don't understand why you had to unload him onto me. Surely you people have your own orphanages? Or where you afraid of the stain on your precious reputation for getting rid of a child?'

James growled, but his wife's hand on his arm stopped him hexing the vile woman.

'You are just lucky my Vernon and Dudley aren't here' Petunia continued, then turned and headed down the hall, pausing to pound the little door under the stairs a few times.

'Out! Your parents are here for you boy! Don't bother taking anything, none of it's yours anyway!'

Then without another word she went into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

James muttered under his breath, then turned to Lily as the cupboard door slowly opened. Neither seemed all that surprised or shocked that their youngest son had been under there in the first place.

'Why did we have to come here? Couldn't he have done all this himself?'

'Albus said we needed to pick him up. He doesn't know a thing about magic, how could he get to Hogwarts?' Lily replied.

'If he didn't know how then he could have stayed put' James sighed, frowning when a head of black hair peeked out.

'Well! Come on, we don't have all day!' he snapped.

Harry frowned, but pulled himself out the cramped space, closing the door softly behind him. He had idly listened in to the conversation, not really caring that his parents didn't seem to like him. The feeling was mutual after all. When Petunia rattled on his door he'd quickly tossed his mattress to the side, lifting a loose floorboard and pulling out a small purse full of notes.

He'd been saving money ever since he was old enough to do so, carefully hiding any loose change found outside, or the occasional note he was able to successfully steal from Vernon or Petunia. He had managed to convince the coloured man who owned the corner shop down the street to exchange the loose cash for notes.

It wasn't much, but over the years every little penny upwards had been saved to give him around two hundred and thirty pounds. Unlikely to be enough for his trip to Diagon Alley, and Harry knew his parents were unlikely to give him much towards his school supplies.

He would have to go second hand, but that was ok. Harry was used to having second hand everything.

He forced his bruised and aching body down the hall and followed his oblivious parents outside, where his father grabbed him roughly on a freshly bruised arm and apparated him away.

They landed in the lavish hallway of Potter Manor, and Harry fought the urge to dry heave. After recovering he looked around. He could remember it clearly, despite not seeing it for years. The theme of the year was Gryffindor, his parent's old Hogwarts house, and everywhere he looked there was red and gold.

It clashed horribly, and was almost blinding.

Ornaments and decoration boasted of the Potter wealth, with crystal chandeliers everywhere, and portraits lining almost every room.

Harry thought it was tasteless and overdone. He personally favoured simplicity, and often wondered how the Dursley household would look like without the tacky pictures and ornaments. His thoughts regarding this place were mirrored, and grudgingly he followed his parents who had left through one of the doors the moment they landed.

Oh joy.

Inside were his brother, and two men he recognised as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

None of them were paying any attention to him, too busy all but smothering Daniel who had taken a temper tantrum the moment he'd clocked his parent's return. Harry could only guess the reason, and already concluded that his precious brother had grown up to be a pampered brat, with all four adults in his life spoiling and catering to his every need.

Harry sighed, turning and leaving the family to their reunion. He might as well find somewhere to sleep, preferably as far away from the others as possible.

After that, well since he was back in the magical world, he had a lot of catching up to do.

The portraits stared at him as he took the stairs to the very top floor. He remembered where his parents slept, and guessed his brother's room was close by them. Traditionally the owners of the manor took up the top floor, but in this case Lily and James simply couldn't be bothered walking up all those stairs, and had taken over the third floor as their own, with Daniel's bedroom on the floor below Harry discovered.

Logically, that means Sirius and Remus were down there as well, leaving the fourth and fifth floor completely empty and Harry spoilt for choice.

After glancing through rooms, he finally chose one in the far corner of the manor, the only one that wasn't decorated in blinding red and gold or full of overpriced rubbish.

The room was red, but not so much that it was overpowering. The curtains surrounding the large window and fluffy rug on the polished hardwood floor were a deep almost blood red, and the double bed, no canopy unlike those in other rooms, had the same shade of cover, with simple white pillows and sheet. The walls were a very pale cream, almost white, with a large brick fireplace opposite the bed. There was a chandelier, but it was quite small and not nearly as gaudy as the others he'd seen. There wasn't much furniture, a wardrobe, bedside cabinets on either side of the bed and a desk and chair, all the same matching dark wood.

Harry wasn't an expert but they appeared to be some kind of maple or rosewood.

His new room was the smallest, though in this manor that meant it was bigger than Petunia and Vernon's bedroom, plus it had its own en-suite. Of course, all the bedrooms had en-suites so that didn't count for much here. The room's fixtures were white, with larger than standard bath and shower unit, pale blue walls and the same hardwood floor as the bedroom. Clearly the room hadn't been used in years, though it was clean and dust free, nor did it have any bathroom essentials, besides a couple of towels.

Harry vaguely remembered something about House Elves, and figured they were the ones responsible for the rooms being so well maintained. Heaven forbid the Potters had to do housework.

He checked through desk and cabinet drawers, uncovering nothing but some floo powder which obviously must be for the fireplace. He did remember seeing others use the floo network, so this was beneficial for him to hopefully have his own fireplace.

Harry's old room had been with his brother in the nursery, but that was before he'd been abandoned. This room was nice, perhaps a little too red but at least it wasn't clashing with the gold of the rest of the house. And it was well lit too, with the afternoon sun bringing in warm rays and making an otherwise dark room look quite cheerful.

After his brief tour, Harry flopped down onto the bed. Besides his school supplies, he now needed toiletries, and perhaps a few odds and ends for his new room. A new wardrobe was a given, he'd need more than the tatty clothes he left the Durlsey's in.

James and Lily were unlikely to take him to Diagon Alley by request, and he didn't want to chance using the floo until he knew he was doing it right, which meant Harry had very little to do for the rest of the day. Normally he had chores, but now he found himself hoping he could find a library. He knew the manor had one, he remembered being brought there once or twice when he was young, he just couldn't remember exactly where it was, and he didn't want to call attention to himself by asking.

So he was forced to wander the halls once more, peeking in doors and making a mental map on where everything was. He hadn't been everywhere after all, he was only a baby when he'd been abandoned.

After a while, miracle of miracles, he found the library, and just in the nick of time too, he was getting desperate for something to do. Harry immediately sought out whatever books he could that would help him navigate the magical world.

OOO

When he next came up for air he realised his stomach had been grumbling for quite some time. He was used to ignoring it, but this time he realised he could actually get something to eat. Harry stood, stretched, and glanced at the time from a convenient overly fancy grandfather clock.

Seven.

Well no wonder his stomach was complaining. He hadn't had lunch, and breakfast was a rushed cram of slightly stale bread into his mouth.

At least he remembered where the kitchen was.

Of course, Harry realised as he got to the door and heard the noises within, that meant having to interact with his family.

Harry sighed, wondering if maybe he could hold off until later that night. His stomach told him in no uncertain terms that there was no way in hell it would wait a single second longer, so, resigned, Harry pushed the door open.

'There you are! Where the hell have you been?!'

Oh, you know, finding a room to sleep in, catching up on neglected learning, avoiding you, nothing much.

'Library' was all Harry would reply, glancing round and trying to recall where everything was. General food in fridge, bread in the bread bin, canned food in the…

'What were you doing in there?!' James demanded.

'Reading' Harry replied, deciding on a sandwich, and wondering if he'd even get to make himself one.

Without another thought, he made a beeline for the bread bin.

'What do you think you're doing?!'

Damn! He'd have to wait until tonight.

'Getting something to eat'.

'Dinner was at six! We've just finished, if you couldn't grace us with your presence at the right time then you will just have to wait until tomorrow!'

It took a whole hour for these people to have dinner. Harry was far too used to cleaning up after fifteen minutes at the Dursleys, but he supposed this was a different environment. Also, how was he supposed to know when these people ate?!

'What time is breakfast?' he asked idly, closing over the bread bin.

'Going to be late for that too?!' Daniel sneered before turning to his mother.

'He shouldn't be allowed breakfast mummy, if he's just going to spoil ours!'

Oh dead God he had another Dudley on his hands!

'Nevermind' Harry sighed, realising he'd get no help from anyone in the room. Hell even Sirius and Remus had remained silent on the matter.

'Where are you going now?! Do you think you own the place?!'

Urgh! Couldn't they just leave him alone?!

'Bed' he deadpanned, leaving before Lily, who looked ready to launch into a rant, could scold him for disrespecting his father.

Harry's stomach protested, but there was very little he could do. He would have to wait until night and sneak something.

OOO

Harry's first week in that manor was quite frankly a disaster in the making. The Potters seemed content to ignore his very existence, providing he wasn't around for them to notice. That meant no meals with them, no passing them in the halls, and definitely no getting caught in the library.

So naturally Daniel looked for every opportunity to remind his parents that Harry was around.

Stupid little mama's boy. Thankfully the brat didn't venture anywhere near the library.

As for school, well to be honest the thought of having to go there, take classes with a bunch of kids who would fawn over his brother, made Harry sick. Give him the nice quiet library or the rarely used potions lab he'd discovered any day. Sure he didn't have a wand, yet, but you didn't need wands to brew potions or read books.

He was getting pretty good at making potions, if he did say so himself. Already he'd all but mastered the first three in the book, and was looking to stock up on what he considered the basic potion essentials. Things like painkillers, pepperups, headache relievers, even antidotes to poisons would be helpful. Though personally Harry was planning on having plenty of bezoars on him should that happen, but until he got them the potions would have to do.

As to getting a wand, well he was waiting for a chance to sneak out to Diagon, using the floo he'd learned how to work, and after exchanging some of his money find Ollivanders, who according to Daniel who had gotten his wand a few years ago, was the best there was. He was hoping he could get out after the Potters had returned from their shopping trip, that way Daniel would be too busy gushing about all his cool stuff to his godfathers to stalk him.

OOO

Well that idea just went down the drain.

For whatever reason, Harry was indeed allowed to go to Hogwarts, and thus was dragged out the manor and his comfy library and brought to Diagon Alley with his family. Once there they headed to Gringotts, and James proceeded to make an arse of himself, in Harry's eyes at least, by acting like a pompous jerk towards the Goblins.

Now this was the first time Harry had met the Goblins, but just by walking into the bank he could see that they were a race to be wary of. And they certainly didn't like it when wizards thought they were better than them.

Anyway, James demanded an inheritance test for his precious son, and when the Goblin motioned towards Harry, the man shrugged in the universal gesture of whatever.

Harry though clocked the look the Goblin had given him, and as Daniel had been led with his parents down the hall, Harry was approached and asked if he would accompany the little being down another corridor. Deciding a little politeness wouldn't go amiss, Harry agreed and followed the Goblin down to a large carved set of doors. A bit fancy for Harry's tastes, but nevertheless impressive.

'Through here Mr Potter' the Goblin, Griphook his name was, motioned with his hand.

Thanking him, Harry pushed the doors open and headed inside, coming face to face with the nastiest looking Goblin he's ever seen, which was impressive as the bank was full of them.

'Mr Potter, I am Gutshank. You are here for an inheritance test?'

'Yes sir'.

'Gutshank is just fine. Please sit here'.

The Goblin brought out an array of equipment.

'You are required to place six drops of blood, using this dagger, into the bowl, and then add the potion and place the quill inside. The rest will happen automatically'.

Nodding, Harry picked up the dagger, admiring it briefly before making a small cut on his finger. As Gutshank ordered, he let the correct amount of blood fall before moving his hand away and adding first the potion, and then the quill. He watched, idly sucking on his finger as the potion went from black to a brilliant blue, and the quill sucked it up. When all the liquid was gone, the quill leaped onto a provided piece of parchment and began to scribble down names.

As it was upside down Harry couldn't properly read it, but he did see Gutshank's raised eyebrow. It appeared whatever had showed up on his test was a bit of a surprise to the Goblin. Finally the quill dropped, and Gutshank spun the parchment round.

'Most of this we expected, though the last one is a bit of a surprise'.

Curious, Harry glanced over the list.

 _Name: Harry James Potter_

 _Date of Birth: 31_ _st_ _July 1980_

 _Father: James Charlus Potter_

 _Mother: Lily Potter nee Evans_

 _Siblings: Daniel Evans Potter_

 _Titles:_

 _Heir Apparent Potter_

 _Lord Peverell_

 _Lord Slytherin by right of conquest_

Uh, ok.

'Mind if I ask a few questions?' Harry asked.

Gutshank seemed to smirk, the sight was horrifying.

'Perhaps I can explain first?'

Harry just nodded.

'Very well. As the older Potter twin, Daniel is first in line to inherit the Potter title. It is likely he may also inherit the Black title, though I cannot confirm that. The Peverell family was married into the Potter family'.

'Wouldn't Daniel inherit that one as well?' Harry asked.

'No. You see the title was last held by the youngest son. It is said that he and his two elder brothers made a deal with Death, of which caused the early death of the older brothers. As the story goes, the three brothers came upon a raging river, where Death lay in wait for them. However the eldest conjured a bridge. Death, feeling he'd been cheated, appeared before them. He decided to congratulate them on beating him, and offered each of them a gift. The eldest wanted power, and thus asked for an unbeatable wand. Death created such a wand and the brother left, drawing attention to himself by challenging anyone who was willing to fight him and defeating them all. He died when after boasting of his unstoppable wand, he was murdered in his sleep. The wand went to the murderer and Death got his soul.

The middle brother asked for a way to bring back people from the dead, as he had recently lost his love. Death granted him a special stone, and he quickly left to test it out. However, the stone did not grant life, but rather brought souls back temporarily. The middle brother soon went mad from grief, and chose to join his love, and thus Death obtained the second soul.

The youngest son however realised that Death would not simply give them a gift for cheating him, and asked for a way to hide from Death. Grudgingly, Death gave the youngest his own cloak, which caused invisibility. The youngest used this cloak well, hiding his soul from Death and living to an old age. Finally, he decided he had hid enough and, passing the cloak to his youngest son, the brother met Death and left with him as a friend. Before he died, he made a will that stated that the youngest son of each generation would receive the Peverell title, as he believed the youngest would be the more intelligent and thus make better use of the cloak'.

Harry's eyes were wide as he listened to the story.

'What happens if there is no younger son?' he asked.

'If there is just one child, or one daughter, then the cloak and the title would pass to them. I believe the cloak passed to your father upon his father's death. And now it will pass to you, alongside the title of Lord Peverell. There is a chance you may also have the right to both the wand and the stone, though I cannot say for sure until after the claim in made' Gutshank answered.

As cool as it sounded to have an unbeatable wand and a stone that could bring back spirits, were either of them something he actually needed? Harry didn't know, but he supposed he'd find out if he did wind up getting them.

'And my age wouldn't matter?' Harry asked to be sure.

'No. Ignotus Peverell, the youngest brother, did not state a minimum age of receiving the title'.

Harry nodded. He was already overwhelmed, and they hadn't even started on the whole Slytherin lord thing yet.

'Would you like to claim the title now, or wait until I have explained the Slytherin one?' Gutshank asked.

'I'll wait. I'm curious about that one' Harry managed to reply.

'Very well. To be honest Mr Potter, we expected your brother to inherit this title'.

Harry eyed the Goblin curiously. Why would his brother get it? Unless…Holy crap!

'I see you have figured it out. The Slytherin family has been…diluted over the years, and for the past fifty years the only person who had any form of claim to it was Voldemort himself. He could not however claim the title of Lord Slytherin'.

'Why is that?' Harry asked curiously.

'Simply put, he did not meet the requirements the former lord placed upon the title. He did not have the right blood'.

'Oh don't tell me he was muggleborn?!' Harry exclaimed.

'No. He was a half blood. His father a muggle and his mother the youngest daughter of the Gaunt family. His true name is Tom Marvolo Riddle'.

Harry ran the name over in his head, making the link after a few moments.

'Tom Marvolo Riddle. Mix the letters around and you have I am Lord Voldemort. Huh?'

Gutshank nodded. He did so like it when he got the smart ones.

'Indeed. As he was a halfblood, he was unable to claim the title. However as he was Voldemort, he knew very few would contest him if he chose to call himself the heir of Slytherin. However, now that the claim has been passed to you, and of course you are of the correct blood as you have two magical parents, you can take the title'.

'And if I do, I would prove that Daniel couldn't possibly be the Boy Who Lived. Except I really don't care about the whole Boy Who Lived thing' Harry concluded, pulling a face.

He fell silent for a moment, then glanced at Gutshank.

'If I became a lord, then that would make me an adult in the eyes of the magical world, right?'

'Indeed'.

Score!

'What about money and…' he searched for the right word. 'Assets?'

Gutshank seemed to pause, collecting his thoughts.

'From what I know, the Peverell family has three vaults. Two for assets, and the third for money. I am unsure of the state of either, but they have been active and gathering interest whilst being untouched since the last Peverell lord, which as I recall was almost four hundred years ago'.

'But you said my father and grandfather received the cloak?' Harry asked, puzzled.

'Indeed, however unlike the title, the cloak can simply be handed down the family from one head to another. Most likely when Peverell became Potter, the cloak went to the Potter family head of the time, and passed down. The last lord would most likely have claimed it, but probably left it for anyone in the family to claim upon his death. You have the right to claim it for yourself, but if you wish it to remain with a Peverell lord only upon your own death, you will have to state as much in your will' Gutshank responded.

Harry nodded in understanding. He certainly remembered seeing his father using the cloak when he was younger, and even a couple of times after being brought back to the manor. The man used it like a toy, and was planning on handing it to Daniel when the boy started Hogwarts.

Harry grinned wickedly, so not going to happen now.

'So it is likely the Peverell vaults would have a fair amount in them. What about the Slytherin vault or vaults?'

'I'm afraid the Slytherin vaults are all but depleted. However it does mean that you would effectively own a quarter of Hogwarts, and thus may state your claim on whatever treasures the castle may have to offer' Gutshank replied.

Ok, fair enough. So Harry was going on a treasure hunt when he got to school. One problem had been nagging at him though.

'Is it possible to claim the title, but not let out that I have?'

If anyone learned he was Lord Peverell, he had an excuse. Well unless his family disowned him. But the Slytherin one would be a big giveaway, and he really didn't want people knowing that tidbit of information.

Hell he didn't even know himself what really happened that night. Sure he remembered Voldemort sending a killing curse at him which caused him to black out, though he assumed the man had then sent one to his brother which backfired. He thought that his parents, or his brother, had done something that caused him to remain alive, and that his brother, with his big raw scar, was the real Boy Who Lived.

Really Harry didn't care who was the Boy Who Lived. It was the whole abandoning him that got on his nerves. Knowing he was actually the Boy Who Lived did not change who he was, and he didn't intend on letting anyone know about it either.

'It is possible. Normally with big titles the ministry is let known, but if you wish we can bury the paperwork until you are ready. And you can will your lordship ring to be invisible. Would you like this done for the Peverell title as well' Gutshank replied.

Harry nodded firmly, then paused.

'I just realised. What if they call out my titles during the sorting?'

'No need to worry. Your Hogwarts letter was addressed to Mr Potter, correct?'

Harry nodded.

'Then it is likely that will be the name on the list. If you are still unsure, I recommend actively willing your titles away briefly'.

'Alright. And yes, please, I will claim both titles, and ask that you hide my existence until I am older. Perhaps until I reach seventeen?'

Gutshank grinned.

'Of course. As for claiming the titles…'

He pulled out some fresh parchment, wrote something down, and handed it to Harry.

'State this out loud for each title. There is no need to include right of conquest to the Peverell one'.

Nodding Harry glanced at the parchment, reading over and memorising it. When he got it he stood, because it felt right, and began.

'I Harry James Potter, heir apparent of Potter house, do hereby claim the title of Lord Slytherin! By will of magic and right of conquest! So mote it be!'

His breath came out in a heave as he suddenly felt magic pressing against him, judging his intent he guessed. After about a minute of near suffocation, it finally let up, and Harry noticed that a shiny ring had appeared on his middle finger. Typical Slytherin green, with a small snake pattern, basic but effective.

Gutshank had been staring at him closely, nodding when Harry turned his attention to him.

'Would you like a moment before claiming the Peverell title?'

Harry so dearly wanted to say yes, his breath had already been knocked out of him enough for one day. However he sucked up his courage and shook his head.

Here goes nothing.

'I Harry James Potter, Lord Slytherin and heir apparent of Potter house, do hereby claim the title of Lord Peverell! By will of magic so mote it be!'

Oh hell this was even worse! Harry didn't know if the first one had winded him enough for the second to do actual damage, but he felt as though his lungs were on fire.

He fell to his knees when it finished, resisting the urge to kiss the stone floor. Ground sweet ground.

'As of now your rightful belongings are being transferred to the Peverell vaults, the cloak included though it seems you don't have a stake on the wand or stone. Are you ok Lord Slytherin Peverell?'

Harry managed a smile and a nod at the Goblin.

'Just peachy' he croaked out.

Gutshank nodded in approval, giving the young lord a moment to collect himself. Frith knows he had plenty of young boys eager to go through these claims, only to have then whimpering and sobbing like infants by the end. That this one was making jokes gave the wizened Goblin the impression he'd been through much worse, and thus could handle pain.

Harry finally caught his breath, noticing the second ring on his ring finger and looking it over. The Peverell symbol was a simple circle with a triangle inside, and a line running from top to bottom. He remembered that he would have to hide them, and silently willed both to vanish, grinning when they did so a moment later.

'I have a list of all your assets here Lord Slytherin Peverell' Gutshank spoke, pushing the pile over.

Thanking him Harry scanned over the parchment. He realised quite quickly that he was no longer poor. While nowhere near a supermultimillionaire, the Peverell vault would keep him in comfort for some years to come, and that was before he looked at the assets.

Harry whistled, some of these items were rare according to the books he'd read. There wasn't much time now, but later, after he'd had a good think, he would come back and look through his things properly. If he sold what he didn't need, then that would be a fair amount to add to his already fairly large fortune.

The Slytherin vault was, as Gutshank said, pretty empty. Whatever money might have been in there was almost spent from fees over the years. There were a few bits and pieces, some of which had been summoned from who knows where, but nothing that caught Harry's eye at that moment.

'Could I transfer the things in the Slytherin vault to one of the Peverell ones?'

'Certainly. Do you wish to keep the Slytherin vault open?'

'No, thank you. Please close it. Thank you Gutshank. I would like to withdraw some money, and I should return to my family before they get too annoyed at me'.

'Very well, if you return to the front hall and briefly show your ring one of the Goblins there will serve you' Gutshank replied, standing and nodding to the young lord.

Harry bowed back, thanking the Goblin again as he was waved to the door. Griphook was waiting for him, and led him back to the main area where he quickly sorted out some money.

'How much sir?'

Harry thought about the list, then decided what the hell.

'Five hundred galleons please'.

He was handed a small pouch, realising it held more than it looked he thanked Griphook and stuffed the bag in his pocket just as his family appeared.

'Hey freak! Guess what? I'm the heir of both the Potter and the Black families, and you're not!' Daniel spat out with a smug grin.

Definitely a slimmer Dudley look alike, though Daniel was slightly chubby. Harry guessed from all the rich meals he demanded.

'Come on boy!'

Startled out his thoughts, Harry quickly caught up to his family, nearly bumping into James as he stopped outside the bank. The man thrust a small pouch of money into Harry's hand.

'Here. Get the things on your list. And don't bother getting the better stuff! If you run out you won't get anymore!'

And with that they were gone, and Harry was left with about eighty galleons in one pouch, and a small fortune in another.

He grinned.

OOO

When Harry returned to the manor he was dragging a relatively battered looking trunk behind him. His family were content to watch as he struggled to get what they thought was a full trunk up the stairs.

Harry's real trunk was in his pocket. He'd gone to Ollivanders first and tried out the shrinking spell on his new trunk the moment he got it. It took a few tries, but he succeeded and since he had to fill it he got plenty of practice using the enlarging and shrinking spells. He also included the featherlight spell, hey you never know when he would need to lift the trunk while enlarged.

With his measly eighty galleons, if that was all he had, Harry would have had to scrimp to ensure he got everything he needed on the list, plus the trunk to put it all in. He would have had to make to with second hand clothes, leather gloves over the dragon hide ones, a battered telescope, worn cauldron and dented scales, glass phials over the crystal ones, and most likely books that were all but falling apart.

He probably could have managed, if eighty galleons was all he had. But of course he had more.

Thus, the three sets of robes, pointy hat, dragon hide gloves and winter cloak, was joined by a full wardrobe of trousers, t-shirts, underwear and accessories, plus a few pairs of shoes. The top of the range potion equipment had extra ingredients and a potions kit to supplement it, and the telescope was the best they had. Alongside the books on the list, Harry figured he'd be better off buying the compete set of Standard Book of Spells, plus the intermediate and advanced Transfiguration books he'd clocked some of the older students buying. He would worry about other books later.

Of course after he received his wand, willow with black unicorn hair of all things, and a holster and polishing kit to go with it, his next stop had been the trunk shop. He'd bought the most battered one he could find, and then asked about the nicer models. Quickly Harry had realised that these people could put an entire house in a trunk if they so desired, though he settled instead for a single small room, even if he did want to go to town just to see what he could squeeze in there. The shop owner, upon realising the young buyer had money to spend, had handed him a catalogue of things one could put in their trunk. After browsing though it, Harry ordered a couple of bookcases, a wardrobe and a cabinet. No point in letting the Potters know he had money of his own by having his things sprawled around his room. At the last minute he clocked a larder and added that to the list. He was planning on finding the exit and looking round London, so hopefully he'd be able to fill the thing.

He was also planning on buying muggle stationary, and plenty of it. Quills and ink were not his cup of tea, and parchment was just plain expensive to buy in bulk. He did buy some, with the plan of handing in any homework on it should anyone question the paper, but there was no reason why he couldn't use pens and notepads for the rest. There was no rule in the books he'd read about bringing muggle things to Hogwarts after all.

Then there were toiletries. He would buy a fair amount of them, he'd be in a school for most of the next seven years so he might as well get his own things while he could.

Harry checked off the last thing on his list, then glanced around looking for the exit. Just as he clocked a wall opening up further up the street, he noticed Eeylops Owl Emporium and Magical Menagerie next door to it.

The list did say he could bring a pet.

But, Harry pondered as he headed inside the menagerie, hiding a pet from the Potters would be difficult. He glanced over the cages, finding no real interest in the cats and reptiles on display. The rats were a big no, not that he was scared of them, they just weren't hygienic enough for his tastes. The cats were also a no, James and Lily would surely notice one wandering about. He considered the snakes, but decided they were too Slytherin for the Gryffindor family, and he dreaded to thing what would happen to one if he brought it back.

No, it appeared the menagerie wasn't going to help him, so he turned instead to the owl emporium. He barely got two feet inside when he found the perfect pet. There she stood, right up the back on a perch of her own. A large snowy owl, flecks of black on her feathers. She was gorgeous.

Harry made a bee line for her, and the pair stared at each other. Then stared a little more.

'How does Hedwig sound?' Harry finally asked.

She hooted once and nodded, flapping her wings and fluttering down to his shoulder. Grinning Harry brought her and her perch to the counter.

OOO

Hedwig quickly became Harry's closest friend, well his only friend but you got the picture.

The owl was scarily smart, and knew exactly how to avoid being seen by the other occupants. Good thing too, the Potters had a few owls, but would notice something different with one such as Hedwig. She and Harry spent long nights just chatting, well Harry chatted and Hedwig listened. When he went to the library she somehow found a way to follow him inside, and he swore she read over his shoulder. She hunted when she felt hungry, and occasionally Harry fed her some treats bought at the owl emporium.

Harry himself ate from his newly stocked larder, put his clothes in his new wardrobe, and filled his new cabinet and bookcases with his other things. His trunk was kept shrunk most of the time, only being enlarged to bring something out or put something away, and Harry kept it with him at all times, even while he slept, though it sat by the sink when he showered or bathed.

His wand remained strapped to his arm. Before Harry returned to Diagon he had an ominous feeling the Potters would take his wand from him and not return it until school started. Possibly not even then knowing them. So he grabbed a small branch from a local park and carved it into a rough wand shape using his potion knife. After a quick polish, it even looked like a typical wand.

Sure enough, Lily and James demanded his wand the second they returned to the manor. Pulling an annoyed face, Harry handed the fake wand over, and then almost skipped to his room to try out some new spells.

It was a good thing the Potters didn't care about him, otherwise they'd wind up asking awkward questions like why he was never down for meals or where his new clothes came from.

Thankfully they didn't care, and as the summer drew to a close, and September first fell upon them, Harry actually felt himself grow excited to go to school.

Bleh! What the hell has happened to him?!


End file.
